Generations: Jinn
by mtfrosty
Summary: Qui-gon Jinn's life in snippets as witnessed by Master Yoda... "This youngling is bouncy... Warmth and heat and brilliant color all packaged into a shape too small to hold it all in."
1. Chapter 1

_This is the next installment in my "Generations" arc. I am not finished with Dooku, but his and Qui-gon's will begin to have some overlap as far as the time in which they take place, so I decided to begin Qui-gon's. Hope you enjoy! :)_

* * *

This youngling is… _bouncy_. It is not a word that one would expect to hear an old Jedi like himself use, and Yoda admits that he is a bit surprised that he just used it. It is true, though. This little one, still no more than a year old, is positively _bursting_ with life. The signature surrounding him is fluttering about, being tossed this way and that like the foam on top of a sea. Or like a leaf on the wind, like a snowflake in a blizzard falling softly to the ground and jumping up again once the wind takes hold, like the rays of the sun, blasting through the city scape in their attempt to reach every nook and cranny still subject to the weight of shadows.

The sun. That's what this child reminds him of. Warmth and heat and brilliant color all packaged into a shape too small to hold it all in.

He uses the Force to nudge a stool into place and then climbs it, gingerly balancing his stick in the space left by his feet. Being that much closer to the boy, so close that he can feel the physical warmth from the blankets wrapped around his small form, almost knocks him back down the stool. Without the practiced control of even the youngest initiate, little Jinn is almost unbearable in presence. His signature, while soft and inviting in nature, is nonetheless powerful enough to be clearly felt.

"Wild, you are," Yoda murmurs, stretching out a scraggly hand without thought. He has always enjoyed being in the presence of innocent younglings not yet tainted by the darkness.

He really shouldn't be surprised by this one's boldness, but he is. A small, soft hand reaches up to meet his own in mid-air, latching on with surprising strength. The jolt that runs up his arm the instant they touch is remarkably _light_. His eyes flick down from the hand to two brilliant blue eyes. The boy is staring at him and not looking away, not intimidated, not scared, only curious.

Or perhaps not, as little Jinn giggles a little bit, squirming as much as he can in his tightly wrapped cocoon. Yoda starts a little, suddenly recognizing the jolt that he'd felt as something similar to what the healers use on frightened padawans. It is a touch meant to comfort and reassure.

Could one so young know the brooding and desperate thoughts that he often harbored? That he had, in fact, harbored before he'd entered the crèche? Certainly not, and yet the Force says otherwise. The child's own signature unconsciously reaches towards his own even as his soft little hand remains firmly around one of his gnarled digits.

Yoda can't help it. He lets his shoulders drop a bit, relaxing into the touch, finally allowing a small smile to grace his features. "Try to heal me, will you, hm?" he asks, only half-joking. Those blue eyes look as if they are seeing entirely too much. It takes more than a gentle shake to free himself, and when he finally does break free, Qui-gon's eyes don't waver. They remain firmly locked on his own, no longer curious.

The boy is daring him to stay it seems. Little Jinn is literally helpless, fully dependent on Yoda right now for everything, and yet Yoda is the one that feels like he's been broken and put back together in just a few short minutes.

Yoda wants to stay. He _really_ wants to. He wants to feel that touch again, the comforting warmth that only a few close friends have earned the right to offer. This baby is a stranger, and yet… Yoda gives the boy one last small, rueful smile. "Dangerous, you are," he tells him, lightly chuckling.

He hops down, shoves the stool back against the wall and makes to leave, pausing only when he hears a soft little mumble from the crib. It's indecipherable gibberish, but the soft nudge against his own signature is clear enough. _I dare you_ , the child seems to be saying.

 _I dare you to be wrong…_

Yoda glances back at the crib, reaching out with his own signature and allowing just a little bit of the boy's warmth to trickle in. The youngling is nowhere close to dark, but this warmth that is bubbling inside of him is not the light that he's known for so many years. It's _different_ somehow. Brighter? No, he's seen what brighter looks like, has felt it before…

The child picks that moment to start giggling and the soothing touch grows _warmer_. Yoda knows that if he doesn't leave soon he will be in danger of laying himself bare before this helpless little baby, of exposing the infant to all manner of shadows and evil and good and light and violence and the sheer _volume_ of memories and experiences that he carries within himself. He desperately wants to be rid of the weight of all of it, but he knows this little one can't take it yet. He's not old enough, not strong enough, not practiced or disciplined enough.

Little Jinn is simply not enough. Not yet.

The giggles quiet down to gentle murmuring and the boy's signature pulls back just a little. Yoda takes it as his cue to leave even though he knows it isn't.

 _I dare you to be wrong._

"Dangerous, you are…" Yoda murmurs as he hobbles down the silent hall. It's the middle of the night. The only Jedi who are up are those young enough to still see imaginary demons hiding in corners and those old enough to have seen the real ones.

And one tiny youngling with a light _different_ enough to expose the demons in the darkness and render them powerless.

* * *

 _Review if you would like! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

The child's feet are too big. It is the only cause that Yoda can come up with to explain the wild, slightly dangerous and ridiculously clumsy _flail_ that is Qui-gon's current method of getting around. _Force… almost decapitate the Windu boy, he did…_ Yoda smiles, amused, at the dirty look the five-year-old Korun boy is giving the gangly youngster.

"Watch it, Qui," the darker child growls, earning himself an equally thunderous look.

"Worry about yourself, Mace." The Windu boy is on his feet in an instant, tiny hands balled into fists, dark eyes flashing, but Qui-gon is spared from a royal thrashing by his own two giant flippers as he crashes to the ground, having tried to pivot around to face his nemesis.

Yoda can't help but smirk at Mace's response. The youngling only rolls his eyes, anger disappearing with a muttered "clumsy oaf". Qui-gon merely glares upward as the other boy passes him. For how tall he is at his age, Yoda imagines that he spends a fair amount of time in such a position. Yoda hobbles through the garden entrance, warily taking a cautious look around to make sure he isn't about to be accosted by Master Hu Shiik. The clan master is known for his strong protective streak, and despite Yoda's own esteemed position, the other Jedi has never hesitated to make his opinion of Yoda's repeated visits known.

Having quickly verified that the coast is clear and that he'll have at least a few precious minutes to invade the younglings' free time, Yoda makes his way towards young Qui-gon. The boy is still on the ground, only he has turned so that he is flat on his back and staring up into the bows of one of the garden's older trees. Older as in taller and more billowy. "Angry at your friend, are you?" he asks once he is only a few feet away.

The child gives an adorable little jolt of surprise and recovers admirably with a casual sideways glance. "No, master."

"Oh?" Yoda shuffles forward the remaining distance and gingerly lowers himself to the soft grass beneath the tree. Qui-gon may not be _angry_ , precisely, but there is no mistaking the obvious agitation surrounding him. "Then angry at this tree, you must be."

Qui-gon doesn't laugh, but he does smile a little. "That would be silly."

Yoda snorts, both pleased and heartened by such a blunt reply. "Then what are you angry at, young one?"

Qui-gon lets out a long sigh, his little shoulders shifting slightly as his chest rises and falls. His gaze grows thoughtful. "My feet don't do what they are supposed to."

As if his _feet_ have minds of their own. Yoda laughs inwardly while trying to keep a straight face. He has to admit that there is a kernel of truth to the boy's words: his feet certainly do appear to be defective. "Growing, you still are."

The boy frowns, glaring at his feet. "Some of me is growing faster than the rest. Does this tree have flowers?"

Yoda is thrown by the change of topic, but he quickly recovers. "No, I do not think it does, young one. Wish to look at some flowers, do you?"

Qui-gon smiles and nods, propping himself up on his elbows. "Yes, master."

Yoda gestures and begins to walk deeper into the garden. He hears Qui-gon get to his feet and begin to follow him. "Your favorite, which flower is?"

"The small white ones."

Yoda has no idea which flowers the boy is referring to, but the answer was quick and without hesitation. He looks up and catches the boy's eyes. "Lead us to them, you should."

Some younglings might have been intimidated by the Grandmaster asking them to lead the way, but Qui-gon only grins happily and takes the lead. In a matter of seconds he has bounded into the underbrush and Yoda has lost sight of him. He returns a short time later with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, master…"

Yoda chuckles quietly. "Excited, you are. Many years ago, keep up with younglings I could. Now older and slower, I am."

Qui-gon doesn't seem to know what to do with those comments and Yoda has a funny feeling that the boy is trying to decide whether he should respond or change the topic. It would certainly explain the rather comical look on his face. The youngling eventually settles on a drawn out "hmmm" followed by, "Follow me, master!" This time he stays within range and Yoda follows after him.

Within minutes they arrive at a small brook with some short, lightly colored plants growing on the banks. A few of them have begun to sprout tiny, pinwheel flowers the color of Cin Drallig's hair. The boy had called them white, but they are more of a light cream that looks white at first glance. Yoda finds them oddly endearing. "Your favorite, these are?" he inquires, catching Qui-gon's eye.

The child is wearing a soft smile that is even more endearing than the flowers he's admiring. "Yes. Some of the other boys tease me, because they think that boys shouldn't like flowers so much."

He says it so casually that Yoda is caught off guard. Young Jinn does not seem remotely bothered by the unflattering remarks. "Bother you, this does not."

A slight shake of the head as Qui-gon sits down and reaches out to gently touch one of the plants is answer enough, but he pats the ground next to him as well. Amused, Yoda lowers himself to the ground.

"They only say that because they can't hear them."

Qui-gon is staring at the tiny flowers, enraptured by something of theirs, and Yoda knows that his own face mirrors that of the boy's. The difference is that he is staring at the youngling instead of at the flowers. "Hear them?" he murmurs, still staring. He can't help himself.

This earns him a look that, at least on an adult, Yoda would label as 'exasperated'. One Qui-gon it only makes him look surprised. "You can't? But you're so _old_ … er… sorry," he mumbles. The contrition lasts for only a short moment, though, before his brows crinkle and he fixes Yoda with a stern look. "You should know what _all_ flowers sound like."

Despite himself, Yoda feels as if he's been thoroughly chastised. He only blinks. "Perhaps. But tell you that I can't hear them, I did not," he casually replies. He notes the slight pink that's creeping into the boy's cheeks, but continues anyway. "Hear them, I can. Surprised, I was, that you hear them too."

He has no doubt that if the Windu boy were sitting here in Qui-gon's place, he would now be on the receiving end of a furious, defensive explanation of some sort. Not so with Jinn. Instead, he's on the receiving end of another warm smile only slightly belied by the boy's obvious confusion. They stay that way for what seems a good long while, before Yoda sighs. Qui-gon echoes him and then turns his attention back to the flowers. "I like these ones the most, because they're happy. I mean, there are other flowers that _sound_ happy, but they're not. With these ones I can tell they're not lying."

Having been so intrigued by the youngling, Yoda has yet to actually listen to the flowers and so he takes a moment to do just that. He has to admit, young Qui-gon has a point. There is nothing fake or deceiving about the song these flowers are singing. It's a catchy tune, but Yoda doesn't know how anyone could _catch_ it precisely. The notes are both high and low, hurried and lazy, patterned and random. Like any other plant, these flowers do contain their own signature, but Yoda is amazed that Qui-gon has been able to separate it from the rest of the garden's plants. Most come in and simply listen to the song and let it soothe them. Qui-gon doesn't seem to want to be soothed (perhaps he simply doesn't need soothed at his age), but instead is intent on learning the song and what each part belongs to.

The old, billowy tree sings too. A low, sonorous note that that it's had since it was only a sapling. Yoda remembers it because he helped to plant this particular garden. His mouth is moving before his brain can catch up to stop it. "Old Yoda, a song he also has…" he stops to again glance sideways at the child. "Like Yoda's song, do you?" And why even _ask_? The boy is too young for such questions. Too young to have the necessary restraint to prevent hurt, to prevent distance from forming. Too young to see the pain that his words might cause. Too young to know that Yoda is, against his better nature (of which his former padawan insists no one has), taking advantage of all of these things. He asks because Qui-gon _will_ answer. Older people would avoid the question or attempt to soften the answer. Not so with young ones, and Yoda is well aware of this.

 _Frighten you, do I, young one?_

Qui-gon is in the middle of inspecting one of the smaller flowers, eyes narrowed in focus, and so it takes a minute before he blinks and glances over. Yoda is once again faced with that strange smile laced with puzzlement. "… yes."

Yoda's heart does an odd little jump and his gut knots itself tight. What does _that_ mean? Just _yes_? That's another thing about asking children such questions: the answers are often too shallow to satisfy. Too simple. He's glad of the answer, but frustrated by its simplicity. Perhaps when little Jinn is older and wiser he'll ask again. Then he won't have to veil his inquiry in vivid imagery. He can be blunt and actually ask what he means: Do I frighten you? Am I lying? Can you fix it? But those are questions for adults, not children. Especially not this child. He is still too joyful and too innocent.

"Storms have songs too, you know." Qui-gon is tracing a lazy pattern in the damp ground close to the creek. His eyes are back on the flowers. "Remember that storm we had a little while ago?"

"Yes." It had been a rather angry one too. Hard rain, crackling spears of lightning, black clouds, and booming thunder. Yoda hadn't slept. "Loud, it was."

Qui-gon's soft smile straightens a bit. "Yeah… Master Hu talked to me about it. I couldn't sleep… I was scared at first because the lightning seemed so close. I went over to his bed. I knew I would be safe next to him… his song is almost like these flowers, but it changes sometimes. Sometimes it's a little sadder…" He trails off and the smile makes a brief appearance again. "But he doesn't lie. All I did was stand there next to his bed and I was okay again. He woke up after a little bit and we watched out of the window together."

Yoda smiles a little. Yes, Hu Shiik is like that. Offering comfort and protection without actually offering words of comfort and safety. "And?"

"He told me about thunderstorms."

Yoda mentally slaps himself. He isn't talking to Yan. He is talking to a boy who likes flowers and who says only 'yes' to the deepest of inquiries. There are no hidden meanings. "Sing, they do?"

Qui-gon's finger stops its lazy wanderings and he looks at Yoda with wide eyes. "Oh yes. Very loud. But Master Hu says it's because they're sad and frustrated. He says thunderstorms don't understand why they should still keep bringing rain even though everything still dries up or dies. So they're yelling at the grass and the trees and the flowers to behave themselves and stay green. They're so loud and angry because they are sad." He smiles again, but this one is tinged with sadness. "Thunderstorms don't have to yell at these flowers, though."

"And why not? Grow weak, they still do." Yoda finds that he's enjoying this discussion about flowers and thunderstorms and caring clan masters.

Qui-gon's face takes on a tight, rigid structure that feels entirely out of place. "They only live for one day, master," he murmurs. "There isn't time for the storm to be mad at them. Sometimes Master Hu lets me come in and clean up all of the dead ones when I'm not sleeping well. They die when it gets dark."

Oh. Yoda watches and waits for more. He isn't disappointed.

"I think that's why I like them the most. They don't have time to lie about anything. They only have time to live and sing for a day."

Hu Shiik picks that moment to shout briefly that it's time to head to the cafeteria for lunch. Both of them stand up and begin walking back through the dense shrubbery they came through. Yoda stops before they clear it and winks at the boy. "See me, he must not. Protective, he is."

Qui-gon smiles and giggles a little. "But you're older than he is, and much stronger."

Yoda smiles. "Thank you, young one, for showing me your flowers."

Qui-gon nods and murmurs a shy 'you're welcome' before stepping into the clearing and making his way towards the rest of his clan. He turns and runs back after a slight hesitation. "Master, you felt mad when I told you I liked your song…" he starts.

Yoda cocks his head. "Mad, I was not. Asked you a difficult question, I did."

"It didn't seem very hard." Qui-gon studies the grass as he continues. "I like thunderstorms now, too. Once you understand them, they're not so bad."

Yoda blinks, wincing a bit at the implication. He is too young to imply something like that isn't he? "True," he concedes. So why hadn't he been able to sleep that night? Qui-gon didn't need to know that even the Grandmaster of the Order was kept up by a mere storm.

"The tree we were by before sings too, but it's a lying tree. Lying is bad, but sometimes I think that the older something gets the sadder it gets and then it has to lie. I asked Master Hu why it has to lie. He said it's to spare others pain." Qui-gon looks up from his study of the ground. His eyes are bright, bluer than ever, and glinting with something that Yoda knows he himself lost when he got old. "I told him that someone who hasn't felt as much pain could probably take some of it away for them."

Yoda is staring at this boy as if he's grown five more heads. _No_. _Take this from me, you will_ not _, young one!_ Qui-gon would be ruined. His joy would turn to sorrow much too fast and that glint in his eyes would be snuffed out of existence. "Do too much, you must not."

"Come along, Qui-gon." The deep, rough-edged voice belongs to Hu Shiik. Yoda finds him leaning against a tree a few yards away. They had been too engrossed in their conversation to notice him. Hu straightens and approaches them, unhurried but obviously intent in his purpose. His wild, dark hair shifts and waves as he walks. The only outward signs that he is anything other than human are his two extra fingers on each hand and his striking green eyes that are just a touch darker than Yoda's but no less vivid. They are wild eyes, but their intensity is a comfort rather than a cause of fear.

Qui-gon spares Hu a glance before looking at Yoda one last time before he turns to go. His eyes are still glinting, still bluer than blue, but they've hardened a touch. There is a resolve there that Yoda marvels at. "You can't stop me," he murmurs, too quiet for Hu to hear, but plenty loud for Yoda. He gifts the ancient Jedi with one last brilliant smile and then allows Hu to gently steer him towards the exit. Hu nods in respect, but there is even a glint in the clan master's eyes that tells Yoda that he knows just what sort of an effect Qui-gon is having. Maybe the clan master _did_ hear.

"Good day, master," he says in his rumbling tenor.

"And to you," Yoda responds, still staring at the back of this boy with two left feet. _Do too much, you do, little Jinn_.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! I already have another chapter written that I'll post next week sometime. Let me know what you think! :)_


	3. Chapter 3

Cin Drallig is leaning against the wall when Yoda exits the council chamber. It is late in the evening and the sun is already set, leaving the sky softly aglow in dark pinks and purples. Against the floor-to-ceiling windows in the hallway, Cin's hair is a stark contrast to the deep shades of evening. A blonde so light as to be almost white, it makes the lithe Jedi resemble a glow-droid that the children use to find their way after hours. Yoda's amusement must be evident on his face since the Battlemaster is smirking down at him when he hobbles over. "Are you finding something funny, master?" he asks, cocking a brow.

Yoda chuckles warmly. "My personal glow-droid, are you? Here to escort me to bed?"

He looks confused for a moment before catching his reflection in one of the windows. Then he lets out a hearty laugh. "Don't be suggesting such things to my students. I will gladly escort _you_ wherever you wish, but I draw the line at prepubescent children."

"Erase such a line, I will not," Yoda replies, smiling. "Now… waiting, you were."

Cin nods, still smiling. Yoda lets out a breath that he had been holding. Whatever his friend is here to talk to him about seems to be good news. Or at least not bad news. "Your little friend, Qui-gon, picked up a lightsaber for the first time today."

 _Your little friend._ How… personal. Yoda is a touch warmed at the words, but is troubled at the same time. Ever since he took on Yan as a padawan, he has been forming attachments at an alarming rate and Qui-gon seems to be the most recent. Even Cin has become more of a friend lately.

He taps his stick lightly on the floor, breaking himself from his musings. Cin's eyes tighten a touch even if his smile doesn't waver. The man doesn't miss much. "Oh?" Yoda prompts.

After a brief hesitation in which the younger Jedi assesses the little green master, he continues. "I've never seen a child so excited about something so simple. During free time, when I let them try out the practice sabers, he wouldn't stop babbling about all of the things he's going to do when he gets his own."

"Enthusiastic, he is," Yoda murmurs with a fond smile. "What ideas does young Qui-gon have?"

Cin's expression grows strained as he obviously tries to contain his laughter. "Well the first thing to burst out of his mouth was 'this would make a great weed whacker, master!' to which I could only laugh. I don't think it was the response he was looking for. In fact, he looked rather _irked_ by it."

Yoda snorts. "Rescue all of the gardens' flowers, he will, and put some of our humble gardeners out of a job."

Cin grins at him. "He was quite serious, I assure you."

"Doubt you, I do not. A very serious boy, Qui-gon is," he agrees.

"He was also excited to not have to have _his_ own personal glow-droid. Thank the Force it's his future lightsaber that will acquire that post and not my hair."

Yoda smiles, nodding. "Hm, yes. Too slow for little Jinn, the droids are?"

"Little Jinn?" Cin echoes, one side of his mouth quirking. "Though the moniker fits, I do not think 'Little Jinn' would appreciate it. And yes, he insists the droids are in dire need of upgrades." After a pause, Cin rubs the back of his neck as he straightens. "When _do_ the blasted things get replaced, by the way? I've been blinded more than once turning a corner late evening. Had to apologize to a poor youngling just last week that I tripped over."

"Perhaps stumble around after dark, you should not, if endanger our younglings, you are going to," Yoda pointed out, not able to help the sharp edge that creeps into his voice. He hates to hear of children needlessly getting hurt.

Cin takes it in stride, shooting him a wicked grin. "Well, he wasn't exactly a youngling. I just mistook him for one. Master Piell's odd fixation with those things almost cost him a month in the infirmary. He barely avoided a badly sprained ankle or worse."

Cin is still grinning like a mad fool and Yoda suspects that he feels not even an ounce of regret over the mishap. He shoots the man what he hopes is a convincing glare… until his valiant attempt to hold his laughter in fails. Chuckling, he shakes his head. "Even Piell… fond of all things, sentient or not, that are close to his size, he is. Understand, I do."

His friend smirks. "I'm sure you do, master. Now, about Qui-gon…" His voice takes on a more serious note as he trails off, smirk flattening into a pointed look. Yoda's ears perk as he pays close attention to Cin's next words. "He's a natural with a blade. It's sometimes hard to tell when they're so young, but it took him mere seconds to get used to the feel of it before he was waving it about as if he had grown a third arm. Obviously he knows nothing of form or style or maneuvering yet, but he was smooth, even with those two boards that double as his feet." At this, Yoda lets out a huff of laughter. "Another thing…"

Yoda glances out of the windows, catching the last bits of light as they dim into shadows for good. They are lit merely by the soft, artificial lights of the Temple now. "Hm?"

"He is strong, master. Not the strongest I've seen, but strong enough, and in a different sort of way than most."

Yoda stares intently at Cin now. "Different, you say? Hmm, yes. This I have seen."

A small smile flickers into view. "I do not doubt it. He is very determined. No, that's not it…" Cin's crosses his arms over his narrow chest. He paces for a bit, stopping to face the windows. "He is… _resolute_. Firm. Once he settles on a course of action, neither the dark nor the light seems capable of swaying him."

Yoda frowns. "Telling this to me, you are? Why?"

Instead of a matching frown or something of similar tone, Cin shoots him a wry look. "How is Yan faring, master?"

Yoda blinks. Well… where, _exactly_ , is the man going with this? He continues to frown out of confusion. "An answer, I do not have for you," he says, because he truly doesn't. Some days his old padawan will comm him with a cheerful – well, cheerful for Yan – hello, but most days he seems intent on research. Brooding over his obsession with shadowy places the likes of which most Jedi would not imagine exist. Such is the nature of being a Sentinel. Yan is well-suited to the task, but as is his right as former master, Yoda continues to worry.

Cin snorts softly at his lack of answer. "That is answer enough. He is not many years older than me, master. While we have never been close, I know that he does not agree with much of the Order's teachings and holds firm in that while still submitting to the Council." He pauses, looking once more to the cityscape of Coruscant, its reflection like a billion stars mashed together in Cin's light blue eyes. "This boy is not so different from him. Opposite in nature perhaps, but similar in character. Yan is, if I may, a _shady_ Jedi. Forgive me if I speak out of line, here; I know you are quite fond of him. This does not lessen his impact for the Order, but he is not exactly someone I would call 'light.' Now Qui-gon…"

Yoda smiles warmly. No, he is not insulted on Yan's behalf, for he has always recognized him as a shadow among many beacons of varying degrees of intensity. Yan's intensity is deep; that cannot be denied, but his intensity is in darker colors. Qui-gon is _bright_. "A brilliant light, he is," Yoda finishes, humming in agreement. "Listening, I am. Go on."

Cin glances at him again, looking a little surprised at the encouraging words. If he had been expecting reproof for his words "against" Yan, well then... Yoda is well aware that there are many who do not truly understand the bond between him and his darker counterpart. He needs no reminders even though this is yet another of many that he receives on a weekly basis.

"Has Yan considered teaching?"

Yoda blinks again, and now it's his turn to look surprised. He knows that Cin is not referring to teaching classes of initiates or, Force forbid, younglings. Yan would _never_ desire that. No, Cin is suggesting something much more direct, much more personal. "Consider taking a padawan, he has not," Yoda murmurs, and he himself has never suggested it to the Sentinel. Yan, while possessing much knowledge, skill, and wisdom that any Jedi of any age would benefit from, does not strike him as the teaching sort. And yet…

" _I know what you're thinking, oh wise one," his padawan says, dark eyes twinkling. A rarity, to be sure. Especially now._

" _Do you?"_

And Yan had proceeded to describe Yoda's thoughts almost exactly. One of the boy's first teaching moments and Yoda is sure that Yan didn't even realize it.

" _I'm different. I don't readily accept the Order's traditional teachings; in fact, I outright question them, and so I'm not quite light. On the flip side, you know there's not necessarily something sinister lurking within me. I haven't quite shown a propensity for what is considered truly irredeemable and so how can you call me 'dark'?"_

This had been Yan defining himself, or at least defining himself as how he thought Yoda saw him. Such introspection and at such a young age. And absolutely no fear of the possible repercussions of sharing those particular thoughts with the Grandmaster of the Order.

" _I somehow seem to be both light and dark at the same time, but you don't know quite what to do with that do you?"_

" _Don't count me among the Lost yet, master."_

 _Dark, you are not_ , he had said.

" _Neither were some of them."_

Yoda blinks. While Yan's character is perhaps not indicative of what a teacher looks like, he had always been, and still is at times, a teacher. A passer-on of wisdom, someone who likes to share their thoughts and welcomes discussion. Yan would probably brush off the idea with a bark of laughter, but Yoda is suddenly curious. What if…?

Cin has obviously noticed his musing and is smiling openly again. "You think he would do well, don't you?"

Yoda only stares at him, still thinking.

"As I said, they are both quite stubborn in their opinions and not easily swayed. Still, they are opposites in many ways as well, but I can't help thinking that such a bright ball of energy would do Dooku some good."

"And benefit Qui-gon, would this pairing?" he can't help but ask. As much as he knows that his boy desperately needs a constant source of light in his life, he has to wonder if Yan would somehow drain Qui-gon of all of his boundless joy and his love of life. His boy is so _broody_ , and Qui-gon is quick to laughter and passionate about _flowers_ , for Force's sake. What would happen if they collided?

Yoda isn't sure he wants to find out.

He is startled out of his wandering thoughts by Cin's quiet chuckling. "Master, I don't doubt that you know Dooku very, very well, and while most certainly naïve to much of what makes Dooku who he is, I do not doubt the man's wisdom nor his passion for the light. It takes a special sort of Jedi to do what he and so few others do." He is eyeing Yoda now, intent on getting his point across. "You have changed, master. And while you may be wondering where this change is headed or whether it's a good thing or not, some of us on the outside are quite pleased by it. You're different, and it's not because of Qui-gon."

Yoda looks away, unable to hold Cin's gaze. "A special boy, Qui-gon is, but right you are. Thinking about many things for many years, I have been, since Yan became my padawan. Perhaps right, you are…"

Cin looks entirely too pleased with himself, but Yoda can't fault him any. "Qui-gon is a bright young boy, in more ways than one, but he has absolutely no control and strikes me as somewhat rebellious. Only time will tell, but for now I am only voicing my thoughts. His apprenticeship is still a few years down the road." He sighs, narrow frame lifting and falling with the release of air. "I'm sorry, master. I didn't mean to keep you for so long, but I never have been the type to keep my thoughts to myself and this seemed a bit too important to leave unspoken. It's late, and I have an early morning tomorrow."

Cin is up early _every_ morning, but Yoda doesn't comment. Cin graces him with a shallow bow of respect, as well as another fond smile, before turning to leave. "Thank you, my friend," Yoda says. "Think on what you have said, I will."

Cin's smile widens and he nods. "You're welcome, master. Good night."

* * *

 _For those who are wondering, I know that in the movies, at least, Cin Drallig is not as old as Dooku, but I wanted him to be only a few years younger. It's probably not canon, but it's what I'm going with for this series. :)_

 _Thanks for reading and leave a review if you can spare the time!_


End file.
